


The one in Bobby's Booping Bakeshop

by keywolf88



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, bobby has a bakery, bobby is my ride or die, brief jakub but i can't with him sorry, i did a thing, i'm in love with a pixel man help, real world meeting, what happened if MC met bobby in the real world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keywolf88/pseuds/keywolf88
Summary: A sweet little one-shot about what might happen if Bobby met MC in the real world.





	The one in Bobby's Booping Bakeshop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclosure: As always, I've used bits of conversation and scenes from the game itself so if you recall it, it ain't mine - it all belongs to our Island Overlords, Fusebox Games.
> 
> I can't believe how obsessed I am with this pixel man. Drop a comment if you'd like, hope ya'll enjoy!

This was absolutely the last time you’re accepting blind dates set up by your mother. He’s a nice boy and you can see why your parents like him; he’s clearly smart, charming, polite, handsome, and all those things your parents like in a boy. But as you’re absently nodding to what you think are pertinent points in yet another story about himself. You think this time it’s about when he was visiting Portugal with his family, which would be really interesting if it was the first time you were hearing about it. But no.

Still, you’re polite and charming and pretend to have a decent enough time despite being bored out of your mind because he is nice and not a complete nonce. You breathe a sigh of relief when he looks at his watch and bolts out of his chair, stammering out apologies for having to run but he is late for his bible study. You reassure him with a smile and give him a friendly hug before flopping back down in your chair. You both share a knowing smile about motherly interference and you take comfort in the fact that he seems to have had just about as much fun as you did. Well, at least you tried. At least, when he tells his mother about how this date went she’ll have no complaints about you for your mother when they meet for tea. And vice versa.

This is why having your mother set you up is a terrible idea. Then again, it’s not like you’ve had much luck with dating on your own either. After coming out of a bad break up with your lying, cheating, arsehole boyfriend of three years, you’d taken to using dating apps. Unfortunately, no boy you met online lived up to your expectations. Not the wilderness instructor, or the physiotherapist, tech entrepreneur, librarian, techno DJ, not even that one bloke who modelled for a living.

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone sitting in the seat directly across from you. But before you can get out a scathing remark, he slides a cup of coffee toward you.

“It’s a shame for such a beautiful lady to be sitting all by yourself.”

You raise one eyebrow.

“How do you know I wasn’t waiting for somebody?”

He smirks.

“I’ll admit, I was watching you for a while with that bloke from earlier. Seems nice,” he says. “Didn’t look to be your type though.”

“Oh, so you’re just one of those creepy stalker types,” you roll your eyes. “Definitely my more my type.”

He laughs. “Clearly I’m not very good at my job then seeing as I don’t even know your name yet. Go on, and tell me a little about you.”

You think for a moment before deciding to humour him. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Alright,” you start. “My name’s Kai, 23, currently getting a PhD in astrophysics. Your turn.”

“Jakub, 25, I’m a personal trainer.” He looks at you contemplatively. “You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of those academic types at first. Way too pretty. I would’ve guessed model or something. But looking at you now, I can see it. You’re not nearly dressed up enough to be a model.”

You stare at him. Quite gobsmacked. You’re not really sure what to say so you wait for him to continue. To say anything. Literally. And either he’s not realized that he’s given you some sort of weird backhanded compliment (you think?) or he really just doesn’t care, because he just continues on as if he didn’t just completely take you by surprise.

“Are you here often?” he asks. “I’ve only been in here a couple of times. Got to watch my figure and all you know,” he says as he flexes his arms. In all honesty, he looks a little constipated but you keep that thought to yourself.

“Oh, I love this place. Pretty much anything from here is good. There’s usually one surprise daily dessert or baked good, but my favourite has to be the Extra Gooey Melty Molten Chocolate Cake.”

“Sounds like you’re a right regular here,” he replies. “I think it’s great that you don’t care about keeping your figure. That kind of confidence is sexy.”

_Me and my big mouth,_ you think. Clearly, the worst that can happen is being in a conversation with someone who can’t seem to help insulting you at every turn. You roll your eyes.

A waiter comes by to pick up your empty teacup and you shoot him a small smile praying that he will see the panic in your eyes and the willingness to do anything if he will just save you from this uncomfortable conversation. As he turns to walk away, your shoulders slump slightly but then he stumbles just a little bit and loses his grip on your teacup. It smashes against the floor and you’re out of your chair helping him back to his feet.

He’s making apologies to you and Jakub, sounding a touch too amused to be genuine. Once he’s cleared up the mess by your table, you look up to see your uninvited conversationalist looking less than happy. There are splashes of chai latte on his white jeans, the remnants from your teacup must have spilt on its unfortunate journey to meet the floor. You choke on a laugh and quickly mask it with coughs even though you know it doesn’t make a difference. Laughter just bubbles out of you after he’s stormed out of the shop (but not before shooting you a glare) and you sink into your chair feeling lighter and better than you did since that blind date.

You’re still amused when you see your saviour bringing round a brown takeaway bag to your table. You smile at him gratefully.

“Thanks for your help earlier. If you hadn’t done what you did, I probably would’ve smacked him silly.”

“It’s no problem, lass. From where I was standing by the counter, I could tell you were uncomfortable.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but be struck by how cute he is. “Besides,” he continues. “What kind of person would I be if I let a woman be harassed in my shop?”

“You’re Bobby?”

“At your service,” he says with a dramatic bow. “Here at Bobby’s Booping Bakeshop, we strive to save all customers from blockheads.”

“Why thank you, kind sir, I am most grateful for your valiant rescue. I’m Kai, by the way. I feel like you at least deserve my name.” 

Bobby laughs and you swear it’s goddamn contagious. His whole face just lights up and something within you slides into place with a resounding _click._ You don’t want to stop talking to him so you strike up a conversation, not even batting an eye when he slips into the chair across from you. If you could bet money on it, you’d bet that even the chair is happy to have Bobby sit on it after Jakub.

You learn that he’s originally from Glasgow (the reason for his lovely accent) and that he used to be a hospital caterer before he and his friends decided to open up a bakery together. He still volunteers at the hospital when he’s home just because he knows they’re shorthanded (what a sweetheart!). And the only reason why the shop is named after him is because he won it after a dare to dress up as a clown for a week.

Before you know it, you’re exchanging life stories with him. You tell him about life as a student and he seems genuinely interested in what you’re studying. Jokes are shared: he straight up bursts into laughter when you tell him about how you once held a funeral for an m&m and you poke fun at him for switching on clap on lights with the power of his farts.

There are no awkward silences in this conversation, no discomfort. It almost feels as though you’ve known each other for years. Flirting feels natural with him and you give as good as you’ve got. When he tells you about the time he baked a cake in the shape of his nob for a girl, you cheekily reply that you wouldn’t mind seeing the real thing. He blushes hard then, a deep red blooming across his cheeks rapidly. The flush even creeps past his neck and you can see just a hint of it peeking through the collar of his shirt.

Heat rises in your cheeks as well, you’re not usually this forward but you’re nervous and he just brings it out in you. _Oh god, I hope I didn’t mess this up, _you think as you worry your lip. He brings his hand to cup your face, his thumb coaxing your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth. His smile is wide and his eyes are sparkling, holy crap you could just drown in them.

“Come to dinner with me?”

You blink. And you blink again. _What?_

“It’s just,” he smiles. “I like to romance a girl first before I show her my nob.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t contain the peal of laughter that escapes you.

“Yes,” you laugh. “Yes, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Great,” he stands up and brushes himself off. “Big Jonno is closing tonight. What are you in the mood for?”

“You mean dinner now? Tonight?”

“No time, like the present. Oh, before I forget,” he hands you the paper bag. “This is a little something for you.”

You peek inside the bag, “Is that –,”

“Extra Gooey Melty Molten Chocolate Cake,” he nods a little sheepishly. “I may have-er-a little crush on you. I noticed that it was your favourite and thought you could use a little pick me up. I never would’ve thought I’d be asking you out tonight, though I have been wanting to.”

A smile tugs the corners of your lips and soon you’re just grinning from ear to ear. God, the emotions this boy brings out in you.

“That’s really sweet Bobby, thank you.” You lean up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek and in a moment of pure impulse, you whisper in his ear, “So I guess we’ll have to decide when to share this cake. Before or after show and tell.”

The rest of the night is a dance of flirting and laughter. But amidst all of that, there are sweet moments where you can really see yourself falling for Bobby. Eventually, you both wind up in his apartment and he’s kissing you hard enough to make your knees weak. At one point, he traps you against the wall and you wonder if he can feel your heart hammering away in your chest.

You find out that he’s a master tease, always giving you what you want but no what you need. It’s not until you bite him that he loses control. He sweeps you up and carries you into his bedroom and it’s just the two of you in your own little world. Everything fades out until all you can feel and think is his hips against yours and how _good_ he feels.

Pleasure coils within you and builds, builds, builds, until stars explode behind your eyes and your back is arched off the bed and into him just like you’re pulling him deeper into you. Bobby moans your name brokenly as his hips start to buck and he comes while capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

His forehead is pressed against yours as you both come down from the high. He kisses you gently before brushing his nose against yours.

“Boop.”

“Right back atcha.”

Your head is laying on his chest now, your fingers tracing his myriad of freckles. There’s a contented smile on your face as Bobby is tracing patterns along your back. You revel in your closeness, knowing without a doubt that you’ve found someone special. You just hope he feels the same.

“I can hear the gears in your head spinning, lass,” he teases. “I really like you, this isn’t just some one night stand. I’d really like to see where this goes, because, if I’m right, this will go really far. And I’m not just saying that because you’ve seen my nob.”

You shift so you can kiss him. This one is soft and lingering but no less passionate than any of the ones you’ve shared tonight. One hand is tight against your waist, pulling you flush against him and the other is cupping your bum. Your smile breaks out against his lips. Turns out, you _can _have your cake and eat it too. And as he’s feeding you the chocolate cake he made, you can’t help but feel completely and utterly infatuated with the boy.


End file.
